


Lullaby for the Broken Heart

by Kirito_Potter



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Ficlet, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 21:03:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20645651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirito_Potter/pseuds/Kirito_Potter
Summary: Henry is laying in bed, staring at the clock, thinking about dark curls and big hands, telling himself he's trying to sleep even though he knows that, just like every night, he won't fall asleep for another hour at least, until these thoughts consume his heart and soul completely and finally burn out.His phone buzzes on the nightstand.





	Lullaby for the Broken Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Just sort of threw this together. Any mistakes are mine. No betas, we die like men.

Henry is laying in bed, staring at the clock, thinking about dark curls and big hands, telling himself he's trying to sleep even though he knows that, just like every night, he won't fall asleep for another hour at least, until these thoughts consume his heart and soul completely and finally burn out.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand.

He hesitates. Maybe it's just a text, and he can check it in the morning.

It buzzes again.

And again.

He sits up and reaches over, not sure whether he's annoyed or relieved.

The screen is lit up with a Skype call, framing the face of the person he was just stuck on. _ Speak of the devil _ and all.

He's not sure he wants to pick up.

Well, of course he _ wants _ to. But can he? He's not sure he's ever talked to him face to face after he's already started his nightly routine of _ I love him I hate him I want him I hate myself I want him to love me I'm glad he hates me. _ He's still trying to pull himself out of the bottomless pit that's filled with his emotions, and he doesn't know if he'll be able to get a word out without breaking down.

The phone is still buzzing in his palm. If he doesn't decide-- doesn't pick up, doesn't decline-- it'll ring out all on its own. And he'll never have to choose. He could say he was asleep. It's almost the truth.

He picks up.

Alex's face fills the screen, and Henry is filled with _ something. _ Affection? Fear? Anguish? All of the above?

"Henry!" Alex gasps, eyes wide. "I didn't think you'd pick up!"

_ Neither did I. _

"Hi," Henry murmurs. His voice is raspy, but at least it doesn't waver.

"Did I wake you up?" Alex asks, dark eyebrows pulling together in concern.

A beat passes as Henry tries to think. Does he lie? "Yeah, but it's okay." Because if he'd said no, Alex would ask why he was still awake.

"Shit, sorry." Alex looks so sincere. "Now I feel even more stupid for calling you."

"What do you mean?" Henry asks, maybe a little too quickly.

His brown eyes flit down for a second, and his cheeks go a little darker than usual. Even grainy and pixelated, he's cherubic. "I just… couldn't sleep. So I called you without really thinking about it."

Henry's heart pangs.

"I'm sorry," Alex mumbles again. "I'll just-- uh-- I'll let you get some rest." There's a pause, then he lifts an eyebrow and gives Henry a crooked smile. "You need the beauty sleep."

Henry giggles. Then he realises, and "No!"

Alex's sleepy brown eyes widen.

"I mean-- no. No, don't hang up." Henry's hands are shaking. "I… as long as I'm awake, I…" _ I want to talk to you. I never want to say goodbye. _

That familiar grin lights up the screen. "You sure?"

_ I've never been so sure of anything in my life. _"Yeah. It's okay."

Alex sighs happily, shoulders losing their tension. "Well… how are you, then?"

Henry can't help but smile. "Good. Saw that new superhero movie today."

Alex's eyes are bright now. "I was invited to the premiere last week! What did you think?"

"It was fun," Henry admits. "I'm not much for comic books and all, but the writing was pretty good. And it definitely helped that the actor-- what's his name? Isn't it James something? I'm terrible with putting names to faces."

"Jack," Alex corrects, chuckling softly.

"Right! Jack," Henry nods. "He made the movie a lot more interesting for me than it would have been otherwise."

"How so?" Alex asks, tilting his head to the side.

"I mean, did you _ see _his--" Henry freezes, flushing.

"His what?"

"His… uh…" Henry swallows. "I was gonna say abs."

To his surprise, Alex bursts into laughter. Henry sighs in relief.

"I mean, you're not wrong," Alex snickers. "Is that all you look at when watching a movie?"

"His suit was skintight!" Henry argues, face still warm. "It was distracting."

"Uh-huh," Alex teases.

Henry allows himself to laugh too. It feels good.

"What about you?" Henry asks, smiling carefully. "Did you like the movie?"

"Yeah, totally!" Alex grins. "The villain design was sick, and the music was so intense during that final battle! It felt like it really had stakes. You know?"

As he continues to chatter away, Henry finds himself losing focus. He's not bored or uninterested in what Alex has to say, but it's like someone is slowly sliding his volume down, until Henry is fixated on the shapes Alex's plush lips make and the little dimple on his chin, standing out even more than usual from how much he's smiling.

"...but other than that, I really loved it!" Alex finishes, cheeks dusted with pink from excitement.

Henry manages to drag his gaze a little higher. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm glad you liked it too."

Alex's smile falters. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," Henry assures him. "I just…" he purses his lips. "Was there any reason you couldn't sleep?"

Alex's eyebrows lift, and Henry winces.

"Uh-- as long as it's nothing too personal. I don't want to be pushy. Just… I figured it might be nightmares or something?"

Alex shrugs. "Nah. Just can't sleep. I'm not really sure why. But I was laying there, and I kept seeing your face on the backs of my eyelids."

Henry just about has a heart attack.

"And I said, this is a sign," Alex continues. "I should call Henry. He'll know what to do. Or else, I'll have someone to talk to."

His mouth feels dry. "That's…"

Alex cracks a small grin, but his eyebrows are pulled up in the middle, like he's unsure. "It's weird, I know."

"Not at all," Henry breathes. "I was… thinking about you too." It's a weight off his chest.

"Oh." Alex pauses, eyes wide and shining. And again, "Oh."

A moment passes, and neither of them speaks.

"W-well," Henry stammers, unable to meet Alex's eyes even through the screen, "how about you tell me how your day went now?" It's clumsy and obvious. His heart is pounding.

"I ate dinner with my family," Alex murmurs, and his smile carefully twitches back into place. "We bought tamales."

"I've never had them," Henry smiles back apologetically.

Alex's surprise is almost comical. "Really?"

"Are those the fried ones?" Henry asks.

"No, no, no," Alex starts, and Henry can tell he's getting ready for a rant. "They're sort of doughy and soft, and I like them best when there's almost too much dough. And you fill it with all sorts of things-- meat, vegetables. I heard some people fill them with nutella, but that sounds vomit-inducing. And once they're filled, you wrap them in banana leaves, and you steam them while they're wrapped."

Henry nods slowly, doing his best to take in everything Alex is explaining. His expression is fierce, the one he uses when he's debating something important. Besides, Henry is genuinely curious.

"Oh, man," Alex groans. "Tell you what. Next time we meet, I'm taking you to eat tamales. My treat."

"Really?" Henry asks, surprised. "You don't have to."

"I want to," Alex says, shaking his head. "I wanna see your reaction." He grins. "You'll love it, trust me."

_ I do. I trust you with all of my heart. _"Sure."

"And besides, British food is trash," Alex grimaces.

"Excuse me?" Henry snaps back. "British food is just as good as any other kind."

"Do you even know what salt looks like?"

"Oh, don't start on that," Henry huffs. "Have you tried curry?"

"That doesn't count!" Alex protests, even going so far as to lift a hand to point accusingly at the camera. "Curry is Indian food! Just because we have pizza places here, it doesn't mean pizza is an American food. Pizza is Italian, and by the same thread curry is Indian."

"Actually," Henry retorts, "the kind of pizza Americans are used to is startlingly different from authentic Italian pizza. It may be based on a foreign food, but the pizza you eat is very much American. And doesn't that mean that, since curry here has British influence, it's a British food?"

"Don't pull that on me," Alex growls. "Name one other dish that has any kind of spice in it."

"Uh--"

"You can't! It's all plain!"

"Is not," Henry pouts.

"Is too!"

"But--" shaking his head, Henry tries to think. "What's so special about Latin food, then?"

"What's special is that it doesn't taste like someone is wafting you the smell of something in the next room," Alex smiles proudly. "Latin food is up in your face. Chili, tomillo, jalapeño, cilantro, ajo. We hit you with it."

"Isn't that overpowering?" Henry counters.

"Sometimes," Alex nods. "But we suck it up and deal with it. Always better to be over seasoned than under."

Henry rolls his eyes fondly. "I think I might explode if I try to eat something with that many flavours at once."

"A shame," Alex sighs, pretending to wipe tears from his cheeks. "I will always remember you. He died as he lived-- being stubbornly British."

"Not before I take you down with me," Henry chuckles. "He died as he lived-- annoying everyone around him."

Alex snorts, and immediately tries to cover his nose with one hand, flushing.

Henry isn't even sure what Alex says next, and he definitely isn't sure what he says in response. The conversation flows through him like a river, effortless but with no clear path, snaking around to seemingly random points. It's the kind of conversation he's needed for days.

At some point, Alex lays down on his side. Henry leans against the headboard, smiling at the way Alex's hair is spreading over the pillow case. He imagines how it would look if Alex was on his back; a halo of brown curls.

"And you know," Alex mumbles, "I don't…"

His eyelids flutter closed, then lift the slightest bit. Henry watches attentively. They close again. Alex's phone slips from his hand. Henry can just see the edge of his face from the angle it's fallen at.

Henry smiles. "Good night," he whispers, and leans forward, kissing Alex's cheek on the screen. He waits a moment, then hangs up.

At the very least, he helped Alex. That's enough to keep him smiling until he falls asleep too.


End file.
